


A Picture of a Rose

by sheron



Category: Avengers Assemble (Cartoon), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, POV Steve Rogers, Pining Steve Rogers, Post-Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-22 19:47:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13173942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheron/pseuds/sheron
Summary: Tony is stuck in an alternate dimension and he is starting to forget a few things. Steve tries to remind him.





	A Picture of a Rose

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written with two days left until Avengers Assemble Season 4 and posted on [tumblr](https://ideseth.tumblr.com/post/161863814289/a-picture-of-a-rose) back in June. It's mostly gen Steve/Tony, born out of wondering how Tony would exist in that lonely alternate dimension. (I miss these characters a lot.)

 

Tony is talking to him again, the familiar sound of his voice cascading over scientific concepts and ideas too fast for Steve to understand. That is alright; he is happy just to listen to Tony talk. 

Hard as it is to believe, that is all he has of his best friend now. Tony, with all his brilliance, is locked away in another dimension even he can't find a way out of. After Sam thankfully found a way to communicate with Tony, they talk practically every evening and these conversations are just enough of a comfort to get Steve through the day. Some of the joy that he used to find in his responsibilities feels diminished, ever since Ultron's defeat. Steve feels like a shadow of his former self. He is tired. The details he has to keep track of wear on him even as the Avengers look after the Inhumans trying to resettle, try to rebuild after Ultron, deal with the world's governments, the media, their new (temporary) accommodations in an old SHIELD safe-house. Nothing feels right. He feels lonely and frustrated.

He misses Tony.

He misses being able to see and touch him.

On the digital link, Tony is thrilled about some theoretical concept he's been spending his time on, something to do with a theory about strings. He discovered pretty early on that he doesn't feel hunger or cold or the need for sleep in that other dimension, and is making the best of it. Steve tries to be glad, because the alternative is frightening.

Tony is saying, that familiar voice echoing from the computer by Steve's bed: "--I can't believe how much progress I'm making with this now that I don't have to waste so much of my day on sleeping and eating!" Steve tries to discern any forced cheerfulness in his tone, any attempt to be strong for Steve's sake and hide his true feelings, but it sounds like Tony is genuinely excited. He always did hate to take breaks. "Having a physical body to look after took up so much of my time that I can spend more valuably."

Steve happens to think that looking after Tony's physical body is time valuably spent, but he doesn't voice that thought.

It isn't like Tony has any choice about where he is stuck now. Steve reminds himself that it is good that Tony is maintaining his optimism and is looking forward to the future. Steve tries to sound happy for Tony. He really does. "That sounds very productive." But he can't help adding a gentle reminder: "You can't actually publish any of your theories or put them into practice until you get back."

He hears the slight frown in Tony's voice. "Sure I can. Through the uplink Sam has set up, I have access to a computer network, which means it's child's play to manipulate objects in the physical world via a basic interface. I'm working with Sam on that in parallel."

"But you still need to get back, come home to us," Steve puts in quickly, unhappy with these news. Sam is supposed to be looking for ways to bring Tony back. Steve doesn't want Tony to grow too comfortable in that other dimension, and he is worried he is watching it happen as weeks pass with no solution. Sometimes Steve feels like he is the only one that this situation is still tearing apart.

"Of course," Tony says. 

Steve tries not to read dismissal into the words but his heart is heavy and it's hard to find his own optimism today. He feels like he's threading water and he's utterly helpless. Rarely has he ever felt so useless.

"I'm working on it. You're in a grumpy mood today," Tony adds. "Did something happen? Tell me about your day."

So Steve does, and they talk, and it's okay for a while.  


 

* * *

 

Days drag on. Turn into weeks. Months. Steve has poured over every bit of SHIELD data he has access to, looking for something that would help Tony; to no avail. This isn't his area of expertise and both Sam and Dr. Strange are assuring him they were working as hard and as fast as they can. It can't be fast enough as far as Steve is concerned, and he is constantly having to moderate the frustration in his voice, the anxiety seeping into his daily communications with the other Avengers.

Tony is on comm with them during the missions. He managed to hack into the various satellite networks which means he can observe what is happening on Earth through the cameras on the streets and in people's personal devices. That makes him very efficient about calling out threats during combat situations. A number of times he has shouted a warning over the link just in time to save one of their skins.

"I'm operating at 200% efficiency," Tony says after Sam thanks him for the quick save. "I could never parse this much information all at once before. In this dimension, thanks to the lack of physical constraints, I'm more brilliant than ever, and that's saying something."

Later that evening, when Steve is going over the day with Tony -- who'd sort of been there, watching over them through his computers and cameras, but still likes to ask Steve for his perspective -- Tony starts rambling again about his numbers and calculations. They aren't fighting, exactly, but they both know where they stand on the subject: Steve always believes that the human factor is more important and Tony always disagrees. Existing without physical limits the way he does now has only skewed Tony's perspective further to an extreme. Tony thinks he can do a lot of good on the other side; he feels powerful.

Disgruntled with the way things are progressing, Steve snaps, "You sound happy to be stuck there. Are you even looking for a way to get back?"

He instantly feels guilty. Steve is supposed to help Tony, not nag at him. God, Tony's the one stuck alone in _another dimension_ , cut off from everyone and everything he ever cared about. 

There is a prolonged silence on the other end.

"You know I am," Tony says eventually, his voice coming out low. "Just....Just try to understand. I can do things now that I never could before. It's a different world. When you get down to it, I'm pure intellect now. Being able to stay up for 48 hours and think and not have my mental capacity diminished in any way is _amazing_. I don't have a weak body holding me back anymore."

Steve feels shame. Dryly, he says, "I think I can imagine what that's like."

There is a sound of startled laughter over the link. "Of course, you can. I can't believe I didn't think of that."

Steve chuckles too and for a moment the tension between them eases.

"It sucks," Tony says quietly into the stillness of the room, intensely serious all at once. Steve freezes and listens as the words pour out of the computer speakers. "It really sucks and I miss things, I miss coffee and my shower and my bed. I--" Tony switches tracks mid sentence: "But there are compensations. In some ways I'm _better_ now."

"More better," Steve says sadly.

"You got it," Tony responds with renewed cheer. Where there would have been a crooked grin there is only static.  


 

* * *

 

"What does it taste like?" Tony says one day, non sequitur, while Steve is having coffee.

Steve lifts an eyebrow, glances down at the dark liquid swirling in his cup. "It tastes good."

"More than that," Tony huffs.

"You're the resident expert on the taste of coffee, wouldn't you say?"

"I'm...I'm kind of having trouble remembering what taste is."

Steve goes cold all over.

He spends the next while talking about the heat of the liquid on his tongue, just shy of scalding, the sweet bitterness, the way the porcelain cup fits his hand, the smoothness of it against his fingertips, because he knows without Tony saying that touch is another thing Tony is forgetting. He talks about the coffee quietly, calmly, like his mind isn't racing and his heart isn't thundering in his chest.

"Yeah," Tony says eventually, "Sounds...sounds great."  


 

* * *

 

A rush of words: "You said you're pure intellect now, but I know...I know you still feel things, even if you can't remember the taste of coffee. I know you still remember us. I know you miss us just as much as we miss you. I am certain of it."

He waits in silence. After a while Tony responds, "You're not wrong."

Steve waits for him to get upset, to proclaim he'll fix it. Right now. He can remember so many times they'd been in trouble when Tony had done exactly that. The spark in his warm eyes. The passion in every line of his body.

"It's like..." Tony hesitates. "Like looking at a picture of a rose. It may be beautiful, but it's not a real rose. There is no comparison. That's all I have now, picture perfect memories." His sad voice fades into silence.  


 

* * *

 

"You have to stop this, Steve."

"What?" He hates the brusque sound of his voice. Tony doesn't deserve it. Just because Steve is mad at the whole world now, doesn't mean he can take it out on Tony who's the victim in all this, anyway. Tony sacrificed himself to do the right thing. Steve has to respect that.

Tony says, "You scared Sam today. You shouldn't have gone into that building without backup."

"I had it under control."

"Not from what Natasha tells me."

"What, you talk about me behind my back?" Steve is actually upset that Tony is spending time talking to Natasha and Sam and he knows, he _knows_ how ridiculous that sounds. But. He only gets these little slices of Tony's time now and he wants all of them. This is the only way he can get his best friend now, and he's greedy about each moment.

"She is worried, too. You have managed to make Black Widow worried, which is saying something!" There's frustration in Tony's voice now, and Steve feels glad for it. It's terrible of him but...If Tony is frustrated that means he feels something. "What the hell is the matter with you? You're either snapping at your teammates -- who don't deserve it by the way -- or when you're on the job you're downright scary. You got lucky today and it could have gone badly!"

"Backseat driving isn't really your style," Steve says staring at the opposite wall. He's not looking at the computer from which the sound of Tony's frustrated words is pouring out, not that it matters. Tony can't see him. He can't see Tony. This is all they've got now. And Tony's wondering why Steve's a little on edge?

"This kind of recklessness isn't yours!" Tony's voice is raised now. "If I have to be the voice of temperance in this relationship then things really _have_ gone off the deep end."

"Maybe they have!" Steve jumps off the bed and swirls around to glare at the stupid box on his table, his one link to Tony. "In case you haven't noticed, this isn't a normal situation. You're talking to me through a box! This isn't okay! You've got no body, you can't see me, and I can't see you, I can't touch you, I can't--" his breath catches and he can't talk. He feels like screaming. Like crying. He is starting to forget how to feel anything else.

"Steve."

"I can't do this," Steve whispers around the tightness in his throat. He can barely even talk, but he tries, for Tony, to make him understand.

"Steve..."

"This is killing me." He can't believe he said it out loud, pulled this terrible weakness out into the light and put it on Tony. Tony has enough problems to deal with, without having to take on Steve's. Still, he thinks...Tony is so strong and so brave. If Steve can't tell him what's on his mind, then it's like these conversations have become meaningless shadows of their former self. It's been a slow drain on him this whole time because Tony's not gone, not really, and his ghost haunts every waking moment of Steve's existence. He can't move on. He can only miss Tony intensely, day in day out and wait to hear the sound of his voice. He is never giving up, never. But it's hard to see how they can beat this one.

There's another long pause. "It's killing me, too."

"I don't know about that," Steve says softly.

"What?" Tony practically yelps with indignation. "What?!"

"If you really wanted to, you would have found a way back to us," Steve says it quietly, but with intense conviction. "You're the most brilliant man I know and it's been months." There's been no progress. Sam's stopped giving him daily updates.

"I've been trying!"

"I know that you can do anything you set your mind to. So please, Tony. Please! Could you just...could you set all 200% of your brilliant intellect on this one thing I need you to do?"

"Steve..." Tony sounds guilty and tired and torn. But his voice changes, just then, it changes to something that Steve recognizes that makes hope flutter in his chest. The kind of certainty about the future that Steve's missed hearing from him ever since that fateful day when they had promised each other they would find a way through this. 

"Trust me. I'll figure out a way," Tony says.  


 

* * *

 

Tony does.

And when Steve is clutching him in an embrace, Tony melts into him.

Steve tightens his hold and sweeps his hands up and down Tony's back, weaves a hand into his dark hair. The feeling of holding him! Steve's eyes burn and he grins into Tony's shoulder, gladness in every cell of his body.

Tony gasps, breath hot by his ear, "I never forgot. I never forgot this."

 

**Fin.**

 


End file.
